7 of 7Stewart-Warner gauges are more than capable of displaying the 1947 Kurtis-Omohundro Comet's top speed, which sits somewhere north to 100 mph.

Photo by Geoffrey Hacker

Kurtis and Omohundro: the men behind the Comet

It's hard to believe that you can find something without even knowing you're looking for it, but that's precisely how Geoffrey Hacker describes his discovery of the 1947 Kurtis-Omohundro Comet.

Hacker—a college professor and historian with a penchant for the odd ducks of the automotive world—believes the one-off Comet represents America's first postwar sports car. It's a bold claim, and it's all the more remarkable because Hacker was unaware of the car's existence until a series of serendipitous events led him the Ohio garage where it had been tucked away for decades.

Since rediscovering the car, Hacker has worked to re-establish its unique place in automotive history. The whole story is available in his book, 1947 Kurtis-Omohundro Comet: America's First Postwar Sports Car (available for online viewing here or for hard copy purchase on an on-demand basis).

The exhaustive, in-depth work is more than worth your time, but even the highlights will pique your interest in one of the coolest cars you've likely never heard of.

Coachbuilt craftsmanship, hot-rod flair

The Kurtis-Omohundro Comet made its public debut in 1947. The vehicle wouldn't have been possible at all, however, without the decades of experience and expertise possessed by its two namesakes: Frank Kurtis and Paul Omohundro.

Frank Kurtis made his name designing and building race cars. His company, Kurtis-Kraft, billed itself as the “world's largest manufacturer of racing cars.” The roughly 2,000 vehicles Kurtis-Kraft built between 1938 and 1962—including everything from Indy cars to midget racers sold in both kit and ready-to-run form—substantiated that boast.

Paul Omohundro, a California industrialist who had a history of collaboration with Kurtis, was the Comet's co-designer and fabricator. His experience with drop-hammer tooling made the Comet's lightweight aluminum body possible.

A 1946 press release revealed the pair's intent to produce multiple Comets in cooperation with Ford. The release broke down cost of the Comet—$3,450 plus the $1,500 cost of a donor vehicle, for a total of $5,000—and touted the projected 50 percent weight reduction over a mass-produced Ford.

The Comet is wrapped in radical sheetmetal, but like many so-called “sport customs” of its era, mass-produced components lie just under its skin. It's a unique vehicle, containing elements of both prewar coachbuilt craftsmanship and postwar custom-car flair.

Kurtis and Omohundro selected a common, versatile platform for their two-seater: a 1940 Ford chassis. Convenience wasn't the only deciding factor behind their choice. The pair of entrepreneurs had hoped to enter a business partnership with Ford, buying the automaker's bare chassis and using them as the base for a line of sport customs.

To help the Comet sit lower to the ground, its builders employed a technique similar to channeling—an instance where its custom-fabricated body previewed a trend that car customizers would widely apply to mass-produced sheetmetal.

Under the Comet's hood is a Ford flathead V8 pulled from a 1946 Mercury. The flathead was an excellent—if not particularly novel—choice for the era, but its aluminum Edelbrock heads and intakes make it particularly notable. The legendary Torrance, Calif., performance shop responsible for those pieces of speed gear had published its inaugural catalog just one year before the Comet made its public debut.

Stewart-Warner gauges, coveted by rodders both past and present, are capable of indicating the Comet's 100 mph-plus top speed. That figure, respectable at the time, was made possible by the car's 2,500-pound curb weight—for comparison, that's about the same as a new Ford Fiesta—and the roughly 100 hp output of its flathead V8.

Its Chris-Craft-like windshield and substantial grille are custom pieces, first cast in bronze, then chromed. Finishing touches include taillights pinched from a 1940 Plymouth, a 1939 Ford “banjo” steering wheel and 16-inch wire wheels from a 1935 Ford finished with very appropriate “V8” emblem hubcaps.

Hacker says he hasn't driven the Comet at full-speed since purchasing it in 2007. Although he's hesitant to push its capabilities as a sports car, he reports that it is a fun cruiser and "honest sports car" that “drives just like you'd think,” with its essentially stock 1940-vintage underpinnings.

We don't think Kurtis or Omohundro would have blamed Hacker for not exploring the Comet's upper limits—it wasn't meant for the track, after all. Besides, it's eye-catching design and unique history means that the Comet is drawing attention while standing still on the concours field.

On Monday, we'll discover how Hacker tracked down the Comet, learn how the car fits into American automotive history and find out where you can see it in person over the coming year.

Graham Kozak
- Graham Kozak drove a 1951 Packard 200 sedan in high school because he wanted something that would be easy to find in a parking lot. He thinks all the things they're doing with fuel injection and seatbelts these days are pretty nifty too.
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